


Slip out of your dress and into my bed, Darling

by surrenderdammit



Series: Antonia [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blindfolds, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom!Gibbs, Dom/sub, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Nipple Play, Light breathplay, PWP, Praise, Punishment, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Spanking, Sub!Tony, Subspace, Unspecified Timeline, buttplug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why the fuck would you come here if you’re on call?” he asks while flopping back down on the rumpled sheets, to which she shrugs.</p><p>“I’m always on call. When the bossman wants me, he gets me,” she says as she opens the door, blowing him a kiss. She’d be amused if they weren’t so painfully true, in every sense.</p><p>She hears him mutter, “Lucky bastard,” before the door closes behind her, and she can’t help but laugh. Oh, if only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tumblr Drabble Prompt Fills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159706) by [EclecticRegard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticRegard/pseuds/EclecticRegard). 



> Inspired by EclecticRegard's drabble in response to a prompt I left in her tumblr askbox. I just couldn't help myself :,D Check her drabble collection out! It's glorious <3
> 
> That aside, this is the first time I write NCIS, which is terrifying on its own, and then it's genderbending on top of _that_ , and English isn't my first language either. So please excuse any typos/grammatical errors and/or OOCness. 
> 
> Oh, and the number of chapters is an estimate; I don't think this will be more than 4-5 chapters, maybe an epilogue.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! :)

.

Toni moans, throwing her head back as she finds the right angle, slamming her hips down in a relentless pace. She’s thoroughly enjoying how Daniel is beneath her, cursing and flexing his fingers around her hips hard enough to bruise. _Good_ , she thinks, aching to feel utterly fucked out and sated by the end of it.

She’d wrapped up early at the office, all things considered; paperwork done and filed by 0030. A quick trip to the ladies’ room and she’d changed out of her Calvin Klein suit, into her Herve Leger, scalloped bandage dress, which deep sea coral color matched today’s make-up enough to only warrant a slight touch-up on her lips and a few squirts of perfume to her pulse points. She’d left the office with a wink to one of the security cameras, sashaying her hips as she’d adapted her gait to the Nine West, Camya leather court shoes and their three inched heels she had slipped on. Her badge and one of her smaller guns had been in the black leather party bag she’d recently acquired, small enough to be anchored to her wrist and held in her hand to be kept close at all times. Keys, phone and wallet were crammed inside as well as lipstick and mascara. She’d been ready to roll into town and pick up a lucky guy for some seriously needed good times.

It was Friday, they hadn’t been given a new case, and Gibbs had given them his OK to scram as much as her boss ever vocalized any agreement for time off. She’d left before he could demand anything else of her, and returned to the office to wrap things up once she’d been sure the office was as good as empty. As she’d left again, it hadn’t taken her long upon arriving in town and stepping inside the nearest club before she was officially on the prowl. Thirty-five minutes later and she had her catch; a man in his thirties, body solid and face the kind of symmetric harmony you found in magazines. His eyes were bright blue, a color she was sadly very fond of, and his tousled hair lightened with artificial toning.

She hadn’t had anything to drink beyond a few sips of her Mojito, and had driven herself and drunk, wannabe model (Daniel, he’d said his name was) to his place which was only a few blocks away. He’d picked her up and pushed her against the door as soon as they’d gotten inside his apartment. Enthusiastic, Toni had eagerly helped them get out of their clothes (handing him the condom she kept in her wallet) as she’d been carried over to the bed, tossed down and thoroughly kissed. She’d easily flipped him over, only trusting one person enough to cede this kind of control to when sober (get her drunk and she’s a wanton little slut for almost anyone, but that never ends well for her).

Now, she’s grinding down on Daniel’s cock, rubbing her clit and panting with his hands squeezing her breasts and twisting her nipples. It’s good, very good, and she’s so fucking _close, shit,_ his dick fills her up just right, big enough to be felt but not enough to hurt. He’s bucking beneath her, fucking up into her the best he can when she’s got him pinned by her strong thighs, and babbling useless, ridiculous things that could be hot if they were coming from someone who wasn’t a complete stranger; oblivious to anything that wasn’t Toni’s wet cunt and bouncing tits. She’s biting her lip, her whole body tense and shaky, on the cusp of a spine-melting orgasm when Daniel stills beneath her, jerking and shouting out his release. She ignores it, refuses to stop now, continues bouncing on his still hard enough cock and rubbing roughly on her clit, so close, _there,_ oh yes _just a little bit_ —    

Her phone, placed on the nightstand out of the habit to always keep it close, rings at its highest volume and she jerks, gasping in startled surprise and her nails catch at her clit, while under her Daniel yelps of fright. She’s coming even as she’s rolling off of him, twitching and gritting her teeth while reaching out to snatch her phone up and make it _stop_. She ignores his swearing and his questions, shushing him harshly and sitting up to take the call.

“DiNozzo,” she rasps, voice fucked from sucking on Daniel’s cock and proceeding to moan and wither on it for the past few hours. The last quakes of her orgasm makes her waver on her name, wincing at how it ends up sounding.

 _“Get your ass out of bed, DiNozzo, we’ve got a case,”_ Gibbs voice snaps at her, causing her to groan and bury her face in her free hand, only to grimace at the sticky residue of her own pussy.   

“But boss, it’s,” she pauses, squints at the watch on her wrist (a Certina and a gift she won’t be getting rid of anytime soon), and whines, ”it’s almost _four in the morning_.”

Daniel is doing that universally annoying thing of attempting to seduce her back to bed, coming off as clingy and extremely unappealing, hands roaming all over her and causing her to shield the mouthpiece of her phone and hiss at him to fuck off. She’s not James Bond in this scene and won’t hang up on her boss with a sassy remark in favor of another round with a pretty little thing. _Her_ boss would have her head, for one thing.

 _“No rest for the wicked, DiNozzo,”_ Gibbs drawls in her ear, _“When I want it, your ass is_ mine _, and I want it_ now _. Understood?_ ”

Swallowing, she ignores the way her stomach flips at his words and sighs. “On it, boss.”

“I gotta scram,” she tells Daniel, having gotten the address she was needed at before Gibbs hung up. She’s slipping into her dress (no bra tonight, and her stockings and panties were ruined) and picks up her bag, flips her hair back, and smirks at him where he’s sitting up in bed looking annoyed.

“Why the fuck would you come here if you’re on call?” he asks while flopping back down on the rumpled sheets, to which she shrugs.

“I’m always on call. When the bossman wants me, he gets me,” she says as she opens the door, blowing him a kiss. She’d be amused if they weren’t so painfully true, in every sense.

She hears him mutter, “Lucky bastard,” before the door closes behind her, and she can’t help but laugh. Oh, if only.

.

She arrives at the scene a mess. She’d forgotten to bring a brush, and her fingers hadn’t quite managed to subdue her hair and make it look less like she’d been thoroughly fucked. A little touch-up of lipstick and mascara in the car had helped tone down her overall debauched appearance, but her dress is rumpled, and her skin is flushed with beard burn and decorated with hickies. Running hands down her sides, over her hips, and pulling at hemlines as she steps out of her car helps straighten the dress out, but there’s not much she can do about the bruises and scratches on her skin. Not when her full pack of emergency make-up is in the office, and not in her car (she needs to re-stock her glove compartment).

Ziva and McGeek are already present, of course, because neither of them have a life, and while McVirgin blushes an impressive red upon sighting her, good old Ziva merely rolls her eyes and lends her an elastic for her hair. Kissing her cheek in thanks, and earning an elbow in her gut for her troubles, Toni quickly sweeps her hair up in a messy knot and valiantly ignores Gibbs’ penetrating gaze from where he stands waiting.

“So, what’ve we got, boss?” she chirps brightly, eying his stern look with slight apprehension. She might have gulped down three cups of takeaway coffee on her way over, which might’ve been one cup too many, but caffeine consumption is an act of self-preservation at this point in her life.

“Two dead Marines and a Jane Doe,” he replies, continuing to brief them as he turns to walk away towards the scene while they follow like good little ducklings. Toni shakes off the events of tonight and forces herself into the right mindset, wondering idly when she’ll be able to stop by the office and change into her spare suit, a pair of more sensible shoes and, by Gods, a pair of panties.

The breeze blowing up her dress is anything but refreshing.

.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short but next one will be longer :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It isn’t Gibbs or boss when we’re like this, Toni,” he interrupts her softly before he kisses her silent, and jolts her out of her thoughts even as she melts against him in shock, the unguarded pleasure he always brings out in her causing her to moan.

.

Gibbs leaves McGee and Ziva at the crime scene to finish up, and barks for Toni to follow him back to the office. The bodies are on their way back to autopsy and there’ll be some down-time as they wait for identification, for which Toni is very grateful, because her thighs are starting to chafe from the dried slick of her previous arousal, and the chill of the early morning’s air had not helped as she’d moved gingerly around the crime scene tying to avoid bending over or crouching down, lest she’d flash Ducky and cause the man to topple over. From the way Palmer had let out a strangled noise and gone tomato red, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes and almost breaking into tears when Gibbs snapped at him, Toni guesses she wasn’t entirely successful. 

They’re in the elevator, Toni shifting restlessly as she nears her salvation, when Gibbs reaches out to pull the emergency stop and corners her with a dark intensity she still isn’t used to. Her breath hitching, she’s backed up against the wall and staring up at Gibbs with wide eyes, startled and wondering what her boss’ deal is with forceful confrontations in elevators. Wisely for once, she doesn’t comment on it, but decides to wait him out before she gets herself into even more trouble. She’s too caffeinated and uncomfortable to deal with that right now.

“What did Palmer see, DiNozzo?” Gibbs growls at her, resting his left forearm by her head and leaning in close. He slides his right hand across her hip and rests it on its generous curve, flexing his fingers and stroking. She bites her lip, aware that he’s feeling for something that isn’t there, the trim of her panties.

“Boss,” she breathes, almost a whine but most defiantly a plea for mercy, but Gibbs merely tightens his grip on her and causes her to wince at the pressure put on the bruises forming there. His face darkens for a moment before he hides it away in the arch of her neck, lips brushing against skin tenderized by raspy stubble and overly eager lips. She pants, staring unfocused at the ceiling, a slight tremble in her tense limbs.

“Did you bare your cunt at the crime scene?” he asks, voice hard, and his left hand reaches over to grasp the hair on top of her head to keep her in place. She nods, knowing he won’t let this go and too flushed to answer him out loud, her eyes tearing slightly at the pull of his grip. He inhales sharply before sealing his mouth over one of her most tender marks on the tendon of her neck, biting a fresh one to overlap it and it causes her to buck in his hold, hissing in pain even as her clit throbs. “Were they ripped off, or have you been without them all night?”

She swallows. “Ripped,” is all she manages, voice husky in response to Gibbs’ looming presence.

Gibbs hums, nosing behind her ear and placing a light kiss on the skin there. She shivers. “Either way, you’ve been a naughty girl, Antonia,” he chides her while sliding the hand on her hip around to cup her ass roughly. “It stops now.”

She jerks at the loud, steely proclamation that sounds like an order, a statement and a promise all in one. Confused, she squirms in his hold, making to push out of it for the first time since he cornered her, but it’s impossible to escape when he doesn’t want her to. “What? Gibbs—“ she begins, voice shaky and unsure, because he can’t mean what she thinks he means. They fuck when he wants it, she comes when he calls, but they aren’t exclusive and she doesn’t think he knows how to be tender, not with her, _especially_ not with her (her almost dying doesn’t count, she thinks, because she doesn’t want to go to such extremes for physical proof his hypothetical affections).

He can’t demand she gives up the only thing that keeps her sane, he can’t demand to be the only one in her life, not when he won’t ever be hers. It’s not fair, and it’s cruel in a way he sometimes is, but usually not to his team, never really with her, not like this.

“It isn’t Gibbs or boss when we’re like this, Toni,” he interrupts her softly before he kisses her silent, and jolts her out of her thoughts even as she melts against him in shock, the unguarded pleasure he always brings out in her causing her to moan. It’s rough, demanding, and utterly breathtaking. She arches against him, slips a leg up his to tangle with, and shivers when the broad, warm hand on her ass travels along her curved back and drags down again with blunt nails, sliding along her raised thigh and helping to hold it up. She makes mewling noises, aching for it, but he’s slowly gentling the kiss until he’s merely mouthing at her lips and ignoring the way she’s trying to rub up against him, her tongue and lips attempting to catch his and get back on track. Eventually, he breaks off with one last nip and closed-mouthed kiss to her lips, leaning away just enough to look down on her flushed face and dazed, pouty expression.

“We’re not done here and we’ll talk more later,” he says, voice rough from his own arousal which still presses urgently against her stomach. “But this,” he slides a hand up her dress and pinches her bare ass, smirking darkly at her yelp, “Is and always had been mine. Get cleaned up and dressed, and when the case is over, I’ll remind you of it. I’m done sharing.”

Indignant and still dazed from confusion and gut-clenching lust, Toni frowns and is about to speak her mind when Gibbs’ (Jethro’s, she reminds herself) hand loosens in her hair, stroking it softly, before he gently maneuvers her off of him and steadies her with a kiss to her cheek before starting the elevator. She gapes at him, flushed and speechless, but Jethro merely adjusts his dick in his pants and grins, oozing smugness and calm satisfaction. Before she can sort herself out and work up her nerve, the elevator announces its arrival and stops, sliding open. Toni chances a glance at her watch and sees they’ve held up the elevator for a little over fifteen minutes, which would usually be a lot, but it’s too early for there to be any true concern and mostly everyone in the building are used to Special Agent Gibbs’ affinity for using the elevators as private interrogation and/or conference rooms.

Striding out with a confident (if slightly stiff) stride, Jethro leaves her behind in favor of their part of the bullpen office, causing her to barely slip out between the doors in time before they close, struggling to keep up in her heels and narrow dress. They’re back to DiNozzo and Gibbs, she suspects, and hurries over to her desk to dig out a dress suit, shoes and her bag of toiletries. She slinks off to the bathrooms without being prompted, head spinning and the events in the elevator fresh in mind and only just starting to sink in. As she cleans up and changes, applying some much needed make-up, she mulls it over and can’t decide if she’s frustrated, excited or afraid. Or everything at once.

For now, it’s best she puts it out of her mind, if only to achieve the mindset she’ll need to have in order to work on this case. She’s well used to Gibbs and the disruptive effect he’s had on her life, ever since the start; used enough to be confident that she’ll be able to get her job done without any distractions (she’s done it for years and years, after all). Satisfied, she blows herself a kiss in the mirror and exits, greeting Gibbs with a smile as she settles down to tackle their case, earning herself a crooked smile and nod in return. It’ll be all right, she thinks (she hopes).

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We need to talk,” Jethro says between bites of pizza, to which Toni raises her brows and chews on her own, happy to leave the talking to him for the time being.

.

In the end, it’s not so much a love triangle as it’s a square; apparently Marines can be more adventurous than one gives them credit for, because the crash-course a poor McVirgin and a bewildered Ziva receives in polyamorous relationships from Abby is priceless. Gibbs is less amused by Toni’s jokes and ribbing than usual, but Toni willfully ignores it for the sake of her sanity and the little work morale she has left. If anyone notices any change between Gibbs’ and Toni’s interactions, no one shows it (expect for Abby, who’s been cutting Toni sly glances and smirks ever since Toni started sleeping with their boss, because Abby is all-knowing). Surely, though, they must at least be aware of the strange and almost electric charge that seems to stretch between Toni and their boss every now and then. But perhaps that isn’t so much a change as it is the norm, and she’s only just now acknowledging it, even as she tries her best to ignore it, with the knowledge of what might come at the end of this case and how it’ll affect her.

(She remembers a conversation with Abby, shortly after spending her first night in Jethro’s bed rather than on his couch:

“So, you and Gibbs huh? It’s about time, if you ask me,” Abby had grinned, eyes twinkling and fairly vibrating where she’d stood, waiting for the results of one of the many tests she’d been running for Toni on the case they’d been on. Toni had choked on her startled laughter, because Abby was the only one who knew that Gibbs made Toni’s knees weak and caused her heart to misbehave.

“Well, it was either give it a go and fuck him, or spend the rest of God knows how long letting it fester in my system. Something gotta give and, like Mae West once wisely said, ‘when caught between two evils, I generally like to take the one I never tried.’ I figured I’d let it ‘fester’ long enough,” she’d drawled, smirking, to which Abby had rolled her eyes and punched her in the arm before tackling her in a rib-creaking hug.

“Oh shush, I’m so happy for you guys!” she’d exclaimed, in that genuine way she had. Toni had merely patted her on the head and kissed her cheek, refraining to comment because, well, she hadn’t gotten it out of her system at all and it looked like she might have picked the wrong evil. This had not been a surprising revelation at all.)

.

What happens is this: Christopher Callahan is arrested by Tuesday, the Director grants their team the rest of the week off, and Gibbs corners her in the elevator ( _again_ ). It’s seemingly to give her extra incentive to hurry up and come to his house after she’s gone home to pick up whatever she might need for a six nights long sleepover that won’t, according to him, involve a whole lot of sleeping. She’s not complaining, much, and winks at the security guards giving her funny looks (her lips are swollen, her hair messy, and her suit is crumpled. Jethro is not subtle, at all, when he can’t be bothered).

“Don’t forget your panties this time, Antonia,” he mumbles in her ear when he steps up behind her where she’s trying to get into her car, parked next to his. “You won’t be wearing them much, but I won’t have you flash your fucked out cunt at anyone at work when it’s over. Got it?”

Toni keeps herself steady by leaning against the hand she has planted on her car’s roof, and the hand gripping the door so tightly her knuckles are white. Breathing in deeply, catching the familiar scent of coffee, sawdust and musk that clings to her boss even now, Toni licks her lips and cants her hips backwards. Jethro hisses when she grinds her ass against him, a hand landing on her hip and clenching in warning, but she merely smirks and shoots a flirty look over her shoulder, eyelashes fluttering. “Your wish is my command, boss.”

He snorts, slapping her ass playfully and making her yelp in protest before he’s pulling away, walking over to his own car and meeting her gaze over its roof, smirking. “Get that pretty little ass moving, DiNozzo. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Rolling her eyes, she gets inside and starts her car just as Jethro’s pulling out, tires screeching and making Toni wince at the abuse he puts them through. She heads on home, where she packs a few essentials, a nice dress because she’s determined to get Jethro out of that house at least for one night (dinner, definitely, and preferably where she can get something other than just red meat), a pair of comfortable clothing to lounge in while he works on his boat and she drinks his beer, as well as some of her nice but disposable underwear (she doesn’t trust that man with her Stella McCartney or I.D. Sarrieri lingerie). She does, however, pack a black, lacey pair of panties that has a slit all along the crotch which she plans on wearing underneath one of her shorter dress suits (it has a skirt with some flair to it as to not restrict leg movement, and makes them look almost indecent while at it), because she’s nothing if not a little shit. She’ll wear it before going to work next, ask him if it’s acceptable, and either he’ll bend her over and spank her until her bum is glowing red, or he’ll slap the back of her head and have her on coffee duty for the rest of the week. She’s under no illusions her sass won’t have any consequences, after all.

.

Jethro greets her with a cold beer and a steaming pizza, grinning at the calculating way she eyes them before accepting. She figures she’s earned the calories and fat that will no doubt cling to her hips, thighs and stomach, and hopefully the sex which awaits her will prove suitable work-out until she has time to hit the gym again. Her figure doesn’t come for free, she’s in her thirties, and vanity is one of her weaknesses. She knows there’s more to her than mile long legs, hourglass figure and pert tits, but she’s been conditioned most of her life to be a pretty face and it’s a hard habit to break, especially when it works so well to use as a shield and a weapon (underestimation is deadly). She takes pride in looking her best, while doing her best and _being_ the best. It is, perhaps, less about image now and more about the fact that she genuinely enjoys the quality of a fine dress, expensive lipstick and healthy body. She still feels the slightest bit ashamed to be seen at her less than stellar moments (greasy hair, unshaven and in smelly clothes; blood-soaked and gasping back tears, fearfully trembling; drunk and swaying, letting herself be dragged along for a quick fuck that leaves her empty and wondering how she always forgets to say no).

Jethro, however, simply pushes a slice of pizza in her hand and leads her to his couch, either unconcerned or ignorant of the reason behind her slight hesitation. She’s willing to go with ignorant, because she knows he thinks she’s beautiful ( _“God you look gorgeous like that, spread out on my bed, shit Toni—“_ ), remembers the way he always softens the blow with a touch or grin whenever he claims she looks like shit after spending too many days awake, or too many at the hospital (the plague had been less than flattering, but she’s selected to consider herself badass to have survived it in the first place). 

“We need to talk,” Jethro says between bites of pizza, to which Toni raises her brows and chews on her own, happy to leave the talking to him for the time being. He looks her over. “You need to tell me if this is what you want. I know what I said, but I won’t enter into this kind of relationship without the full understanding and expectation of fidelity, on _both_ parts. I can’t be casual with you anymore, Antonia. Either we end it, clean cut, or we make this relationship exclusive.”

Somewhere along his proclamation, she chokes on her beer and coughs, staring at him and resisting the urge to find a pillow to smother him with. For the love of everything holy, this man is utterly _oblivious_. As she had resigned herself to deal with the severe emotional constipation that is Jethro Gibbs when she’s hardly qualified to handle her _own_ emotions, Toni puts her beer away, dries off the grease on her hands with a napkin, and turns where she sits to level him with a heavy stare. “Jethro, I have been in love with you since approximately one and a half years after we met. This has never exactly been casual for me, though I’ve respected the boundaries and distance you’ve kept between us. I have severe commitment issues myself, but I’m long gone on you, you infuriating bastard, and it’s nothing I’m not willing to confront if you’re actually giving me a chance here.”

Jethro looks momentarily dumbfounded before it melts into a smug, pleased expression. He reaches out to curl an arm around her waist to tug her close, using his free hand to grab her chin and title her face upwards for a soft, wet kiss. She follows willingly, melting into the kiss as she is helpless not to, and sighs wistfully when he breaks it off to search her face. Whatever he finds makes him grin wider, the pleased glint in his eyes making her lips twist in a wry smile. “This is unexpected, but entirely welcome,” he says, stroking a thumb along her cheekbone and no doubt messing up her rouge (not that she cares). “I trust you’ll have no complaints on making it official then? You’ve never been just a colleague to me, always a friend, and more than a hook-up for quite some time. I’m sorry it’s taken us so long.”

Toni grins, wide and pleased, knowing exactly what it costs him to express himself this way and feeling giddy with it. Neither of them has a good track record, but Toni isn’t a red-head and she’s never felt like a replacement, and Jethro has never been anything like the men she’s walked out on in her life and he’s never left her six uncovered. She’s willing to take the risk, because she’s nothing if not a glutton, and Jethro is like the darkest chocolate. “No complaints here, sweetcheeks,” she says teasingly, nipping at his lips and laughing at the warning growl she gets in return. “C’mon, let’s finish eating before the food cools. Nothing’s worse than lukewarm pizza.”

Sighing, Jethro turns back to the table and resumes eating, arm still snug around her waist and not likely to let her up anytime soon, so she does her best to work around it. She’s hungry and hasn’t had pizza in way too long, making sure to savor each bite with relish. She wonders what they’ll do once finished, if there’s more to talk about or if he’ll spread her out on the couch and have her right here (she shivers at the thought; it’s been too long since she allowed herself to go under, to give up control and lose herself without fearing she’ll never find her way back). Whatever happens, though, she’s sure she’ll end up enjoying one way or another.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters in the progress of being written. Hope you've been enjoying the story so far! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a naughty little shit, aren’t you, Toni?” Jethro drawls, hand still in her hair but merely holding her in place now, while his free one strokes gently down her cheek. She looks up at him and opens her mouth to reply, but he shoves two fingers in as if he’d anticipated it. Which he probably had, that old bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, this escalated quickly? :,D 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the late update! I sort of lost my muse for a while, then was hit with it over the face and wrote this chapter. It, uh, turned out a bit kinky. Whopps?
> 
> So, um, warnings/heads up for some things: Toni and Gibbs have a pre-negotiated D/s relationship, so there's gonna be some of that. Some pussy slapping and deepthroating with a hint of breath-play, and there's some nipple play and, uh, just general sex stuff. Talk of punishment, but nothing too bad. 
> 
> Basically, porn. So, ehehe, enjoy? :,D
> 
> Please excuse any typos/grammatical errors; it's not been beta read and English still isn't my first language. But, uh, yeah. Enjoy! 8D

.

“Keep them spread, darling,” Jethro murmurs, running his hands up her inner thighs, one of her legs slung over the back of the couch, and the other braced against the coffee table. She’s flushed and naked, lying  along the couch and looking up at Jethro through hooded eyes, her arms above her head and wrists crossed from where he directed them unto the armrest. He remains fully clothed, jeans tented from arousal and pupils blown, stroking her gently and making her skin tingle. “That’s right, bare that pussy for me.”

She squirms, breathless with anticipation when he finally leans down and puffs soft breaths of air against her naked crotch, before he flicks his tongue out for a taste. Wet, warm pressure teases along her slit as he explores her, dipping his tongue inside before moving up to lick roughly at her swollen clit. She grunts, hips rocking slowly in time with his mouth, trying to get more friction, more pressure. His hands are massaging her legs, moving up and down, slinking under to hoist her up by her hips and securing her in his arms. She’s pressed tight against him as he seals his lips around her clit and _sucks_ , making her cry out and arch up off the couch, hugging his head with her thighs.

He nips at her, causing her whole body to jerk, and growls in warning. Whimpering, she forces her legs apart again, fighting to keep still. The resulting tension makes her tremble all over, losing herself in the wet suction of Jethro’s wicked mouth. There are lips and tongue and teeth, sending jolts through her thighs and belly, the molten knot of lust under her navel tightening as her breath shudders out of her in stuttering moans and weak pleas. She’s stumbling over his name, cursing, and thrashing her head from side to side, arching her back and grinding her hips, to somehow channel the restless energy he’s stirring up in every nerve of her body.

Time is useless: she’s unaware how long he eats her out, but she’s so close now, her cunt aching and dripping while her hole is clenching and painfully empty. She sobs for him, for his tongue or finger or cock _, anything_. She shouts and almost tips herself off the couch in her attempt to jackknife into a sitting position, ready to murder when Jethro pulls away suddenly, leaving her pussy throbbing and weeping. Only his hand on her stomach keeps her in place, keeps her from getting anywhere even as she struggles weakly, cussing him to hell and back for leaving her hanging. The hands she’d kept obediently over her head falls down to grasp at the one pinning her down, clawing at his wrist and whining.

“Shh, baby,” he hushes her, smirking and licking his sticky lips, humming with contentment. She kicks out with her leg, catching him in the shoulder, but he merely moves his hands out of her grip to splay out on either of her thighs. He pushes, hard, and she hisses at how wide he’s spreading her. She’s flexible enough, but the tension in her muscles makes it sting. He meets her glare with one of his own. “What did I say about those thighs? Keep ‘em _spread_ , Antonia.”

She pants, burying her left hand in the armrest behind her and her right at the back of the couch, trying to keep herself steady. “You fucking bastard, I was _so fucking close,_ goddamnit Jethro!”

He chuckles, trailing a hand from her thigh to brush lightly against her wet folds, teasing for a moment before drawing and back delivering an electrifying slap right across her cunt. It caused her to shout out in surprise at the flare of not-quite pain, which settles down as a buzzing heat fraying her nerves, her hips stuttering in aborted thrusts. “ _Fuck!_ ”  

Smirking, Jethro cups her throbbing pussy and cards his fingers through the wet curls of her pubic hair. “You haven’t forgotten what a bad girl you’ve been already, have you, Antonia?” He squeezes her before drawing back for another slap, wringing a moan from her as she twitches involuntarily. “I thought I’d jogged your memory already, baring you like this, hmm?” Another slap, and she thinks she might come just from this: the jolts of pleasure-pain warming her up, leaving her cunt swollen and throbbing. She chokes on a sob, shaking her head. She can feel her juices dripping down the crack of her ass, she’s so wet.

“I remember,” she gasps, arching her back and letting out a pain whine when he traces her clit with the tip of his finger. The touch is light, teasing, and fucking _agony_. “Please, Jethro, _please_ –I, oh, I _need_ to come!”

He’s resting his hands on her inner thighs again, one hand sticky from her, and rubs gentle and soothing circles into her skin with his thumbs. “Mmm,” he hums, taking a moment to admire her spread before him, her chest flushed red and heaving, her hands clenching, her mouth swollen and wet. “Remember the rules: I’m not going to go easy on you tonight. Color?”

She gasps “ _Green_ , Jesus fuck” almost before he’s done asking, because her body is buzzing for it, and the smirk she gets in return sends shivers up and down her spine. It’s been too long since she went under, too long since she let go: there might be a correlation to how antsy and annoying she’s been at work, with the head slaps doled out like crumbs to a starving man.

Now, Jethro leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as he slips a hand up to tweak her other one. She groans, hips rocking slightly in response to his teeth scraping her raw, and she nearly shrieks when he’s suddenly pressing his jeans-clad crotch against her bared pussy. It’s relentless pressure, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against her clit and God, she must be soaking him through. “Fuck,” she breathes, and writhers where he’s got her pinned: her hips are twitching and grinding in desperation while he merely chuckles, switching his mouth to her other nipple and biting down _hard_. Her hands find their way into his silky-soft hair and _pulls_ , because he’s meeting her thrusts now and she’s climbing closer to that edge again, breathless and foul-mouthed as she urges him on.

“Please, please, please,” she whimpers, because she’s so close, and he’s grinding into her like he’s fucking her, like his cock is inside her, and his teeth and lips are pulling her nipples to red, swollen peaks of pain – the good kind. He likes it when she pulls his hair so she does it again, throws her head back and pushes her breasts in his face to entice him, to tempt him into giving her what she wants.

She feels a surge of triumph when he does. When he doesn’t pull away, when he allows her to come: his jeans have rubbed her clit raw and even the soft, wet heat of his tongue on her nipples is agony of the best kind. Everything keeps building up, keeps adding up, and the tight knot in her stomach folds in on itself when finally, finally, she’s tipped over. Her muscles are seizing, she can feel her cunt grasping at something that isn’t there, throbbing and leaking. There’s a warm, silky heat spreading from her clit to her pussy, her thighs and stomach, and she’s gasping and moaning incoherently as she comes.

“Shh, darling,” Jethro shushes in her ear, no longer grinding against her but pressing his hard crotch against her still, hard enough, relentless enough, to bring tears to her eyes as she shivers with the sensitivity of an intense orgasm. He’s gently guiding her legs down into a more comfortable position, soothing his hands up and down her hips, resting his cheek against her chest and pressing soft kisses to her breasts. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. You’ll learn your lesson by the end of the night, won’t you?”

Any sense of triumph evaporates as her brain comes back online, because yes, he allowed her to come but she _knows_ how this goes. He’ll either deny her to orgasm for hours and hours, edging her to the brink of insanity, or make her come and come and _come_ until she _can’t_ anymore, until he’s blowing air of her clit and all she can do is _scream_. Her pussy throbs at the thought, and she whines in protest as Jethro starts to pull away from her.

“Tsk, tsk, Antonia,” he tuts as he removed her hands from his hair and sits back, hands on her thighs again to prevent them from hooking around his hips to keep him put. She reaches for him with her arms instead, only for him to maneuver her out of the way to allow him to slip off the couch and stand, staring down at her. She pouts, trailing her fingers over her breasts and grazing her nipples, not stopping the moan that rips from her throat, trying to entice him back. It’s worked before.

Instead, he gives her a look before pointedly looking down at his soaked crotch, the fabric of his jeans a dark blue from where her cunt had rubbed against him. “Hmm,” he says, frowning with disproval. He snaps his fingers, indicating to the floor between his feet, and looks at her expectedly. When she takes a moment to hesitate, his expression darkens and he snaps. “On your knees, Antonia. Clean up your mess.”

“Sorry sir,” she mutters, hasting to obey. She slips down on her knees, walking on them to close the distance with couch to her back, and settles between his feet. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, but wastes little time in leaning forward to mouth at his cock through his jeans. His hand settles in her hair, and she sighs as he tugs lightly, opening her mouth and pinching fabric between her lips to suck. It tastes like her, and detergent, but smells like sex and warmth. She can feel him twitch as she presses her tongue against him, tracing the shape of his cock and adding her saliva to her pussy’s juices smeared on him. She’s not so much cleaning her mess as she’s adding to it, but that’s not the point. She enjoys the way his hips can’t help but twitch, when she gets a good enough grip with her lips to get suction that must be felt enough even through the thick fabric of jeans, and the flimsy one of his ratty underwear.   

She yelps and chokes on a moan when she reaches up to flip open his button and zip him open, and he pulls sharply at her hair in warning. There are tears in the corner of her eyes but she relents, placing her hands behind her back before it’s asked of her.

“You’re a naughty little shit, aren’t you, Toni?” Jethro drawls, hand still in her hair but merely holding her in place now, while his free one strokes gently down her cheek. She looks up at him and opens her mouth to reply, but he shoves two fingers in as if he’d anticipated it. Which he probably had, that old bastard. She glares at him, but it doesn’t stop her from sucking his finger in. It’s almost a reflex by now. He smirks. “Oh yes, darling, I think I’ll have that mouth now. Keep it from causing more trouble; you’re already getting punished tonight. No need to add to it, is there, Antonia?”

She nips at his fingers, scraped her teeth along them as they slide in and out of her mouth, for lack of words and it makes him chuckle darkly. She shivers at the look in his eyes, the twist of his smirk. Oh flipping fuck she _wants_.

“Cheeky,” he mutters, hooking the fingers in her mouth behind her lower teeth while he slips his other hand from her hair, getting his jeans open with an easy flick of his wrist. Before she knows it, he’s pulled his cock out, stroking it, as he flattens the fingers in her mouth against her tongue. She swallows, eying the angry red of his dick and smelling the pre-come that’s already dribbled out to make the mushy head glisten. Oh _, yes_.

“Open that smartass mouth, baby,” Jethro demands, voice deep but steady – not a growl, yet. His fingers are pressing down on her tongue even as she obeys, and she tilts her head for a better angle. He hums in appreciation, the hand around his cock guiding it until he’s painting her upper lip with his pre-come. He pulls out his finger and slips his dick in instead, a steady and smooth move that has his taste exploding on her tongue unexpectedly. Fuck she’s missed this.

“Good,” he breathes, slowly feeding his cock down her throat, giving her time to adjust and breathe through her nose. He doesn’t go as deep as he could, but pulls out and goes again, slightly deeper. He repeats these slow, coaxing thrusts until the head of his cock bumps the back of her throat. She doesn’t gag, but opens for him, a skill that was hard-won but worth it in the end. The thrill of getting guys to come so hard they almost cry is not to be underestimated, as she found out during her illustrious college career. “There you go, baby.” He doesn’t speed up, but makes her take him for longer each time, until she’s gasping desperately for breath each time he lets up. She’s dizzy from the lack of air, from the taste and feel of him on her tongue, and the want that had been temporarily satisfied before is back with a vengeance. She knows better than to move her hands from her back to slip a finger or two inside her cunt, to momentarily sate the empty feeling. She doesn’t know what he’s got planned for her, but she’s learned the hard way to be patient, and so she takes it. She swallows around him and blinks the spots out of her eyes, whines at the burning feeling in her lungs, but doesn’t fight it. He’s got her.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he pulls out again, this time all the way, moving back just slightly to indicate he’s done for now. She gasps in air, almost falls forward into him if not for the hand that’s back in her hair, gripping tight and keeping her upright. It hurts, but combined with the relief of air, of relaxing her jaw and resting her raw throat, it’s so good. She almost sobs, moaning weakly, hearing him mutter words of praise as he rubs his wet cock against her lips and cheek. She’s a mess of tears, pre-come and saliva by the time he pulls back entirely. He bends down to help her up on her feet, pressing his nose into her hair and kissing her temple.

He mumbles "Color?", lips grazing her skin and making her shiver.

Replying "Green" without any hesitation, her voice is raspy and used from his cock. Her clit throbs.

"Hmm," he hums in approval, before scooping her up over his shoulder and chuckling at her startled yelp. On reflex, her hands had shot from their cramped grasp behind her back to bracing herself on his lower back.

“What the hell?! Jethro—!” she gasps, twisting in his hold and only going still when he delivers three hard, painful slaps to her ass.

“We’re only just beginning, darling,” he purrs, starting to walk once she’s steady and still in his grip. She curses, simultaneously turned on but dreading what he’s got in store for her. “That was the pleasant part of the evening, so you’ll know what you forfeited, you cheeky pain in the ass. Remember it when you’re begging for mercy, and you might just learn your lesson.”

Fuck.

.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I won’t go easy on you, Antonia. I won’t be pausing to ask for your colors, so you better remember them. Recite them, girl.”
> 
> She shivers in anticipation, a sudden thrill making her stomach flutter pleasantly, not unlike the rush of riding the drop of a rollercoaster. “Green, for go; yellow, for stop and talk; red, for full stop.” She feels his hands stroke along her back in approval, deceptively gentle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh....so, I didn't even notice it's been like a year?? Man, I have been so caught up in life lol. Anyway, thanks for the positive response to this people! I hope I still have someone left who reads the fic :,D Anyway...
> 
> Some tags for this chapter: blindfold, buttplug, spanking, subspace, aftercare, praise. 
> 
> Now, on with the punishment...

.

This isn’t the gentle warming up across his lap. There is no hot, titillating intimacy of his crotch pressed up against her, hardening underneath her body where she’d lie sprawled over his knee like a naughty little girl. No, this is bracing her hands right next to each other on the mattress of his bed, her head hanging between hunched shoulders, and spreading her legs to borrow her feet down in the carpet for purchase, with her ass high in the air. Naked, she feels the chill of the room against her peaked, sensitive nipples and the exposed, wet, swollen flesh of her sex. She shivers in anticipation, keeping her eyes fixated on her hands where she’s clenched them in the sheets, listening to Jethro moving around the room. She feels his fingers ghost a trail along the back of her thighs before he moves away, walking to his closet and fishing around for…something. Toni reels at the possibilities, trying to remember all he keeps there and attempting to theorize which he might choose.

The cuffs, the blindfold? There’s a ring gag in there which she loves, and a riding crop, and a purple dildo with three wicked settings, not to mention the Hitachi wand of fucking _wonders_. Three anal plugs in various sizes, beads and cock rings and – O _H_.

“None of that, Antonia,” Jethro snaps, the sting of his slap against her left ass cheek having jerked her to attention. It seems he’s fetched whatever he wanted, and she bites her lip to keep from asking what he chose. That he hasn’t soothed the burn with a stroke of his hand tells her a lot about how this will go, if her impersonal positioning already hasn’t.

“Face forward,” he demands, and she obeys without hesitation. Though cheeky, she’s too keyed up in anticipation to question him for now. He slips the cool silk of her blindfold across her eyes in response, tying it firmly to remove her sight. Next he ties her hands with soft rope (no cuffs then, which is a shame; she nicked them from McGee and everything! …that might be why Jethro haven’t used them. Hm), which are already in position. This earns her left ear a sharp nip, followed by a gentle suck that makes her fight off a tremble. Then the looming presence of him is gone, no longer radiating heat where he’d hovered over her arched back, and she lets a noise of discontent slip, to which she hears him chuckle from somewhere behind her.

“Color?”

She shivers, breathing out a shaky “Green.”

“Mm, almost done, darling,” he murmurs, a familiar click indicating he’s popped open the cap of lube. Her breath hitches, and she squirms slightly where she stands bent over and exposed. Slick fingers trail gently up and down the crack of her ass, making her yelp slightly in shock at the feel of cool lube against her heated skin. Jethro wastes little time, circling the rim of her asshole only twice before he’s pushing his finger inside to the knuckle. She can feel the slick, impersonal feeling of a medical rubber glove, disposable as he prefers, and is startled to realize he must have put one on when she wasn’t paying attention. It does little to warm the lube, but as he starts thrusting his finger in and out of her, the heat of her body soon warms it all up.

She’s only tense for a moment, easily relaxing herself and welcoming the intrusion from experience. The familiar burn of the stretch is exciting as always, promising as it works her open: one finger, then two and three. They’re broad, and long, and she’s moaning as he twists them inside her, adding more lube and spreading it inside.

She’s panting by the time he’s done, groaning at the empty feeling he leaves behind once he’s withdrawn, but it’s not for long. The blunt tip of a plug (too firm and too big to be the dildo) pushes against her, stretching her rim wide as it flares to its thickest point. She’s sweating a bit, bearing down on it, and cries out in dismay when Jethro stops pushing just as she’s stretched as wide as the plug allows. When she tries to shift back, to force it inside all the way, Jethro pulls it back just enough to hamper any progress, and slaps her ass hard.

“Keep _still,_ Antonia,” he hisses, landing two more hard spanks on each of her cheeks for good measure. She manages not to cry out, biting her tongue and whimpering. Her clit is throbbing, and she can feel the wetness of lube and her own juices dampening her inner thighs. When the plug is suddenly thrust all the way inside, she squeaks as she’s jolted forwards, her hips twitching in aborted movements. The plug’s in place inside, filling her up, and she relaxes into position. Her ass is throbbing, both from the spanks and the stretch of fingers and toy, but she’s feeling more settled as twitchy anticipation gives way to acceptance.

“Mmm,” she hears Jethro hum, sounding pleased. “Look at you, so lovely. Fucking gorgeous, spread like this for me.” He strokes two fingers from her clit to the base of the plug, parting her labia and spreading the wetness of her arousal. She keens in reply, aroused with every nerve tingling for his touch. With her sight robbed from her, it’s all the more intense. He chuckles, and there’s a sound of rubber snapping, as he presumably removes the soiled glove from his one hand.

“I won’t go easy on you, Antonia. I won’t be pausing to ask for your colors, so you better remember them. Recite them, girl.”

She shivers in anticipation, a sudden thrill making her stomach flutter pleasantly, not unlike the rush of riding the drop of a rollercoaster. “Green, for go; yellow, for stop and talk; red, for full stop.” She  feels his hands stroke along her back in approval, deceptively gentle.

“Good girl. See, you can be so good when you want to, Antonia. So let’s not keep you waiting, hm?”

She chokes on a scream when the slap hits, her ass already tender from his previous attentions. There’s none of the easy warm-up when he’s got her over his lap, where he always begins with light, teasing taps to slowly heat her skin as he gradually increases the strength of the spanking. Now, bent over the bed, feet planted on the floor, she’s getting none of that. He’s harsh right away: strong and steady slaps, that alters from one cheek to the other, giving her little time to recover in between. The plug inside of her is jostled for each slap, causing her to clench around it as her muscles seize in response to the pain blooming across her ass and down her thighs where his hands rain down on her.      

For a moment, he pauses, roughly squeezing her ass with both hands, rolling the heated flesh in his palms. “No need to count ‘em, Antonia,” he growls, to which she tenses in trepidation. “Yes, remember that you haven’t now, did you?” He chuckles, spreading her cheeks to no doubt gaze hotly at the sight of the plug stretching her, and the swollen, red heat of her sex. “Doesn’t matter. You won’t need to, this time. I’ll stop when I please, darling, or when I tire…whichever comes first.”

Toni stifles a groan, the arousal knotted low in her stomach jolting her as it draws in tight, and she almost chokes on her breath when the spanking resumes without any warning. She emits small, aborted whines and moans until she can’t restrain herself anymore. Her throat feels raw, from the growls and shouts she’s vocalizing to somehow ease the strain of keeping herself from squirming away from the blows. She’s collapsed down onto her elbows, and her knees are pushed uncomfortably against the end of the bed, but she’s yet to attempt to crawl away.

Her beautiful, silky blindfold feels damp from tears she has no recollection of spilling, but it must have happened some time ago, though all she can focus on right now is the overwhelming burning feeling of her ass. At one point, she’s pressing herself down into the mattress, her chest heaving against the cool cotton of the sheets, her arm stretched out over her head. The strain flexed muscles and the stretch of the fold of her knees are a mere afterthought, all fuzzy and distant as the world closes in on her further. The elated feeling of detached floating that creeps up on her takes over. She feels warm, dissolved. Mutely, she’s aware of soft sheets under her chest, rough carpet under her knees, and the hard edge of the bed against her belly. The delicious, throbbing heat of her ass is in tune with the pounding of her heart, and the soft noises exhaled on each breath.  Warm, calloused hands run up and down her sides, making her skin tingle. This continues for a moment, an hour, a second: time is lost on her, right now. She can’t fully grasp if the spanking has ceased, or if the sensation of each blow is being swallowed by the overwhelming sensations she’s drifting in.

Suddenly, a fist grips her hair, a grounding grip that is just tight enough to make her scalp prickle. Another hand brushes softly over her freshly spanked ass, and Toni moans weakly in confusion. The hot-pain-sizzle-spark of pleasure wakes her up, somewhat, but only briefly. Before she knows it, she’s lying prone on her stomach, unbound, blinking blearily at the soft light of the room. Her right cheek rests against a pillow of soft down, cradling her head. Slowly, her senses expand, rolling out like syrup: a sweet, thick flow, unhurried. She smells the clean scent of fresh laundry surrounding her, the familiar aroma of her man and his house, and feels his hands caressing her back in a gentle massage. Toni makes a weak sound of inquiry, turning her head slowly to seek him out with her eyes, suddenly struck with a need to _see him._

“Shh, I’m here,” Jethro murmurs, finally visible, though a bit blurry. Her cheeks feel stiff with dried tears, the taste of salt on her lips, but he’s there. “You did so good, darling. Beautiful; so good for me, Antonia.”

She hums happily, still drunk on him, and he chuckles softly in return. Gently, he pulls away, but before the pang of alarm in her heart can cause her duress he’s back. “Just getting you something, darling, for your naughty little ass. It’ll help with the burn and the bruising,” he murmurs, voice soft and affectionate. She settles down, eyes fluttering shut when she feels the first stroke of cool gel being tenderly massaged onto her inflamed skin. He doesn’t pause, but leans in closer to make sure she’s listening. “Do you want me to remove the plug, pretty girl?”

If Toni had any energy left to spare for anything but being here, existing, she would’ve startled. As it is, she’s merely vaguely surprised that she’s managed to forget its presence. Now, though, she registers the familiar sense of fullness inside and must’ve made a distressed noise at the thought of suddenly being empty now, when it feels like she could float off at any moment: a balloon of helium with its string cut, doomed to drift far and away, lost in the atmosphere.

“Hmm, yes, we’ll leave it in darling, don’t worry. You look so pretty, Antonia, so pretty and perfect all blissed out in my bed. Right where you should be, sweet little girl,” Jethro says, voice a low rumble, washing over her in gentle waves. She sighs happily, blinking up at him with a goofy smile, one he returns with a grin of his own before he gently maneuvers her to rest her head in his lap. She gratefully snuggles in close to his stomach, noting he’s slouched resting against a bunch of pillows by the headboard, and wraps her arms around his middle. She’s lying sprawled between his legs, ass too tender to be on her back for God knows how long, and can do little but close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of his hands in her hair. The temperature of the bedroom must have been turned up, because even though she’s still naked and with no sheet draped over her, she’s pleasantly warm. The gel has helped sooth her well-spanked skin, and she wonders absently how many slaps she took, but isn’t bothered to find out. It doesn’t really matter.

“Rest for a while, darling,” he urges her gently. “I’ll be here.”

With a sleepy hum and a contented snuffle, she drifts off, calm and satisfied.  

 .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there might only be one chapter left after this one. I'm thinking more sex, now that the punishment is over...though, Toni might want more after that experience lol. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


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